hidden harm

shortly after i adopted pete, he underwent surgery to remove a lump on his side.

well, it was a lump originally. i first noticed it within days of bringing him home. it was as small as a bug bite and the vet said not to worry about it.

but it grew. and grew. and grew. until it was as large as a silver dollar.

then pete bit it and left a crater instead of a lump. so the vet cut all around the sore and sewed him back up.

he looked pretty brutal for a while. it made me cringe, just to look at it. when i would accidentally touch the stitches my entire body shivered with disgust. sure, i was disgusted. but he was mine. and i loved him. and i would have done anything to make him feel better.

today, you would barely know that he ever had those red stitches lining up along his side. he has a long scar, but his fur covers it up. unless you really pay attention, you'd never notice that some of the dark spots don't line up just right. you'd never know that he ever had surgery. you'd never know that he was ever hurt.


this past weekend a friend of mine facilitated a workshop with some college students. the workshop is designed to make them aware of how their decisions effect those around them. during a section on hidden harm, the unthinkable happened.

some of you will know what the buzz phrase "hidden harm" means, but for those of you who do not...here we go. hidden harm is the risk of everything you don't know. in the world of student development, it refers to the unknown history of a student's life.

during this workshop, the students are given scenarios to discuss. each scenario presents a student who is asked to do something that triggers something from their past that they'd rather not remember. in the middle of this activity, while talking about activities that may cause a student who was abused as a child to relive or at least recount those painful memories, like i said - the unthinkable happened.

the students laughed.
they LAUGHED.
they laughed at child abuse.

when my friend told me about this, i couldn't decide if i wanted to cry or if i wanted to vomit.

my disappointment in these students is more tremendous then i could ever put into words.

each of us have history. bags that we carry of varying weight. some days the bags may be more than our tired arms can stand. some days the bags are so light that we forget that they're even there. but we carry them. and like pete's scar, other people can't see it. we've covered up the scars with designer clothes or sarcastic humor.

maybe we've covered it up, but like pete, if you look closely you'll see that something just doesn't line up quite right.